


faithful dog

by Phantom_art



Category: Political RPF - Russian 21st c.
Genre: Angst, Crying, Help, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:48:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22792753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom_art/pseuds/Phantom_art
Summary: Dmitry sees his story with Vladimir, from the time he met until now.Enjoy.
Relationships: Dmitry Medvedev/Vladimir Putin
Kudos: 5





	faithful dog

The tense moment remained engraved in the mind of Dmitry Anatolievich Medvedev who, just remembering it, made his stomach turn wanting to expel what he had eaten that day. ¿Who would have thought that he would know the president of the Russian federation?, nobody and that was the problem; it was an honor obviously but he felt that he had almost died. It was horrible to remember and yet the moment slipped into his mind for the fifth time.

It was not a coincidence that he arrived at the Kremlin, he was a good lawyer in consideration, young, excited, he could attract attention. Working in the place was difficult, the first few days were strange; too much counting the number of people coming in and out of the place. The pay was good, of course, he could afford to buy the car he wanted and maybe something for his girlfriend. Although, seeing the pile of papers the remorse of leaving the place was constant.

The former Kremlin lawyer did not do his job and, unfortunately, it was up to Dima to tidy up and get the small but spacious office up and running. His rank was lower, the mere fact that he could see the senior officials made him sweat with thought. With the president's rumors that, being a former spy, he was filled with fear but, he felt a loyalty to the man. He looked at the clock; time to eat and be able to rest from all those papers. He walked out slowly, reading so many files had made him dizzy. 

He looked out into the corridor. Empty and silent, it was horrible to think of some horror story he read in his spare time. He walked around looking at the pictures, touching the wall and some seats that were too comfortable for him, he could sit and sleep in seconds just by being there. He could see his companions waiting for him, smiling at them and holding out his hand in the air in greeting. He stopped to look at the terrified looks of his companions; some were shaking from afar, he could see him.

He looked confused, lowered his hand, seeing that it was not him they were looking at. Slowly he turned, looking at the president with his serious, expressionless face.  
He couldn't hold back a scream and a scare to walk away suddenly. 

"I frightened him.

He felt he might die.

"Mr. President, I'm sorry I couldn't see you," he said, soothing his heart with shock. 

"Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin." The man raised his hand and shook it against the other. 

"Dmitry Anatolievich Medvedev," he replied, lowering his head respectfully. 

"You are the new lawyer I can see." He continued, holding her hands. "I don't remember seeing your face before.

"No sir, I've been here for a few months.

The president seemed to think.

"Good morning, Dmitry Anatolievich.

And so the man disappeared, leaving him with a burning heart. He felt that the blackout was the closest thing that would happen at that moment. 

The moment he arrived he was bombarded with questions.

As time went by, he was able to see the president more often, he usually saw him on the landing, walking, and every now and then, a smile followed by a nod from the man was enough to make him smile

After they met, he was promoted.

Now Vladimir and Dmitry had shared enough. Although he could feel the unpleasant sensation that sometimes came between them.  
Over the years he became prime minister and thus gained the man's trust.  
At least, that was his feeling and his conclusion.

Now, in office, he was pensive, as time went by he had never doubted Vladimir; even if he was wrong. He supported and endorsed him, it was a blind trust after all. He was willing to take on anything to protect the man. 

But, his sexuality was never questioned, not now. Not when he thought about the forbidden face at night, because that was forbidden and unattainable.

He jumped out of his seat when he saw the door open, he wasn't ready. He smiled at the sight of Vladimir's body sliding through the mahogany door, just as Tsar Nicholas could do, Lenin, Stanlin, Gorvachov, Yelstin's fat man, and now the man who could do what he wanted with it.

He feared that Vladimir could do whatever he wanted with him, was something that terrified him. His heart was in the hands of the man, delivered with a faith so special that he wanted to be able to stop it. 

"Dmitry Anatolievich," he said, closing the door behind him. "I need to talk to you.

"Has there been a problem, Vladimir Vladimirovich?

"I don't like formality, Dima," he replied, walking to the desk. "I would prefer more confidence from you.

"Volodya," he said, frightened by Vladimir's reaction, was able to relax when he saw the man nodding by the nickname. "I am loyal to you, I will do what I need and have in desire..

There was a pause.

"Whatever you want.

Vladimir smiled, this time it was a real smile and that melted him as he felt special for provoking something so unwelcome

"Get up then," he said, standing three feet from the desk. "I like speed, dima.

Dmitry took the hint, getting up from his seat to face him.

He could see the detail of his face, soft and whitish. His slight freckles that were not noticeable and his eyes that were a mystery, he assumed, the KGB trained their spies well to keep the feelings. 

"On your knees," he said, resting his hand on the young man's shoulder, bringing him down with him. 

Dima nodded, knowing his role next. He touched the man's crotch; hard and thick he could feel it. His nerves were on edge. He grabbed the belt, pulling it out in a desperate, torturous fashion, trying to hold on to time. Undoing the button, she thought, touching the button to wrap her fingers around it and remove it. He unzipped the zipper, looking at the underwear, slowly lowered the boxer as well, watching the limb fly out. He stopped, examining the limb in front of him. He could see the reddish glans coming out proudly, the foreskin and length quite long. He put his hand on the penis, touching it. Feeling slimy the sensation

"it would be better if it was your mouth".  
With that, vladimir took dima's head, bringing it closer to his member." confidence must be tested, I hope you understand the dima situation.

Dmitry nodded, opening his mouth to bring the limb in, feeling the gagging as the tip hit his throat. He breathed, for the first time, relaxed his throat, assuming what he would do he withdrew even with the hand of volodya on his head. He began to sway, slowly. Closing his eyes with the slightly sour taste that his palate felt at that moment. He held a scream as Volodya forced it down his throat. I could remember a scene like that from a pornographic short film. 

He knew then, that he must go quickly.  
He increased, nodding as he held dimtry's head. He planted kisses on the length and then shoved them all back into his mouth. All he could hear was the gasping breath of volodya.  
He opened his eyes wide as his other hand grabbed his head. 

"Hold still," he said, lunges into the opposite mouth.

Dima's eyes crystallized, with the gagging more present at the moment that sooner or later he might vomit. He could feel the air tense, the man's moaning escape and the semen come out to fill his mouth, he looked at Vladimir's face.

"You are good." vladimir threw, coming out of his mouth." swallow.

Dima swallowed, grimacing at the bittersweet taste.  
He opened his mouth, showing that there were no drops left inside. His limb tightened, feeling his own need. 

"Good dog," he said, hitting Dima's head. "You're a good boy, Dima, loyal. You won't let me down, will you?

"Volodya." He called to his height to look him in the eye. "I am faithful to you. 

"That's what I wanted to hear."

After that they became lovers.  
Dima's heart was full, his feelings for the man turned from something passing into something lasting and passionate. He could never get enough of the man. 

Their relationship was complicated, the media, his wife, his son questioned him exasperatingly; denying everything, they were only a political marriage and Vova was his partner, after that their relationship did not go any further.

Or that's what they tried to do. 

With each encounter, with each caress, with each fleeting and warm kiss they melted him. Lost in every corner and then plunged into the sky to a point where he didn't want to return.  
They felt like teenagers in something so forbidden, so juicy and exciting, hiding in some rooms of the Kremlin to satisfy their most intimate desires. 

Then Vladimir got sick the first time.

Both were in the hospital, as prime minister he had the right and duty to accompany his president; as lover he had to look after his man's welfare. 

"Vova," she muttered, holding his hand when the doctor left. ¿What's wrong with you?.

"Dima, nothing is wrong. It's just tests, routine. You should know that by now. "

"It's not volodya." He looked in her direction, nostalgic. "I fear for you and your health, you were pale.

"We are Russian dima you should understand.

"but this time you were transparent!" he shouted, whether he wanted to or not, to scold the man. "It's your last volodya mandate, resign. 

Vladimir only denied, lifting his body from the stretcher to take his black coat. Sometimes he could be so stubborn that it bothered him a lot, it was his health after all

"I'm fine and that's it. It's not a scandal."

That same day Vladimir changed the constitution. 

That same day he resigned.

He was assigned to national security.  
Every next day he could see Vladimir's arrest, the strong and powerful man was fading away. Age was catching up with him and he knew it, the thought of being without his lover was killing him.

Within a few weeks, a deficiency of red blood cells was detected. Anemia quickly took over his body and he was unable to do anything about it.

Dmitry was devastated, seeing the shell of the man he loved so much tearing him apart, seeing that he was always locked in his office terrified. 

This time he decided to visit him. 

"Vova." He called, seeing the empty office.

"What is it, Dima?" he asked, coming out of one of the rooms.

Dima's eyes cried, seeing the emaciated man who put his arms around him, noticing how thin he was, feeling that he could break his bones if he pressed.

"Volodya you must eat," he suggested, breathing down his neck. "Your health is bad.

"I am not like your dima." Vladimir responded, patting him on the back. "What is it? I don't get young with time, you know.

Vladimir could feel his shoulder getting wet.

"Dima?"

There was no answer.

He called back.

"I just." It started, pressing against the man's body. "I don't want to lose you. 

"Don't talk nonsense."

Dima cried, as he had never cried before, praying in his heart for his lover's health, he needed it.

"It's not nonsense!" he cried, looking at his worried face. "This dog can't bear the thought of you not being by his side.

Vladimir smiled, kissing his forehead, which surprised the man.

"Don't worry Dima, go to your office, I have to receive the minister."

From that day on Dmitry was forbidden to enter that office. 

It was September, his birthday, his wife had asked him to take a day off, he was not in the mood to celebrate. He had been crying in his office all those days, watching Volodya walk away from him. Yet he did not abandon him, leaving some notes among the papers. 

That day she received a reply. 

"Come, my office, now."

That same day the president's dying body was found.

Dima was at his side, looking at his frail body, breathing heavily, surrounded by some machines. His face was wet, since he found him he could do nothing but cry and lament the situation.

"you shouldn't be here." the voice, the faint voice echoed across the room.

Dima looked at him, feeling the tears streaming down his face.

"Why Vova? Don't you love me?" he asked, caressing his hand that was fuller since he last saw it, he could feel the bones now.

"Dima." he said, coughing at the emotion. "I don't want you to see me like this, you didn't know me like this.

"I'm your dog, I won't leave you now." he cried, bringing the bony hand to his face. "Not now that I love you. 

For the first time he could see the fragility of vladimir. He could see the tears of the destroyed man.

So he slept beside him, in the chair. Such a faithful dog with its owner. 

The next day he woke up, seeing the face of Volodya, peaceful and pale, with a light smile. 

That day the news was given that the president of the Russian Federation had died in the night.

At the funeral all the rulers were present. From Americans, Hispanics, Europeans and Asians. Each giving their condolences to say goodbye to the Russian leader. He was in the front row, crying inconsolably without wanting to keep up appearances, politics could go to hell for that day and so could everyone else, nothing had any relevance anymore at that moment. 

The time came for the farewell, he was the last to say goodbye; unable to bear to see the inert body of the man who once kissed him.  
He kissed the coffin, closing it slowly.  
When it was the funeral he could not resist, his heart was aching and his eyes were swollen. The rumor of a secret affair was headline news. 

He certainly didn't care. 

He was alone after all. 

That day the dog was left without an owner, because, something died along with its man, its happiness and love was taken from its body, being buried with the body that was proving it.

That day nothing could change that feeling and he knew it, he should live with the pang in his chest until his last breath is exhaled from his body.

And therehe waited, patiently, to be reunited with his owner.

**Author's Note:**

> This made me cry xd. I had it saved and remembered to write it, it's a great piece of trash but, it's creative I guess.


End file.
